


Petting

by orphan_account



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks,  Deathtouch!  You are an inspiration! Your "Eddy the Dog" was wonderful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deathtouch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Eddy The Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6886879) by [Deathtouch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/Deathtouch). 



Seth Grayson was in the neighborhood anyway, heading to Trader Joe's for his bimonthly run to resupply the snacks he squirrels sway in his office. It was Saturday afternoon and there's nothing planned, so when the Vice President's texted, it was only a matter of minutes before he arrives at the townhouse. Seth reads the text again and grins.

*

He's greeted at the front door, whisked past the Secret Service sentries by the flustered looking politician, whose tight white t-shirt is splashed wet (and clinging against two dark cherry nipples, Seth can't help but notice and appreciate).

"That was fast," Frank tells him, his voice warm with approval that sends shivers down Seth's spine. "Eddy's been such a naughty dog and needs a bath."

*

There's a large oval old-fashioned wash tub on the kitchen floor and in it, on all fours, is Edward Meechum, although if Seth was to go by the tag hanging from the thick leather collar, 'Eddy'.

As Seth crouches down to pat his head, six feet and one hundred and eighty pounds of pooch knocks him to the kitchen tiles.

"Hi Eddy!" Seth laughs as the dog's long, slippery tongue bathes every inch of his face. Frank chuckles indulgently, only snapping Eddy's leash when he starts snuffling eagerly at Seth crotch.

"No!" the Vice President orders sternly. "Bad dog."

"Awww, he's just being silly little puppy." Seth adjusts the erection he's been sporting since the moment he walked inside. "He remembers when I fed him."

That day, two weeks prior, had been a revelation. At work, seeing Meechum hovering protectively at the Vice President's side, clean cut and professional, Seth would remember Eddy's sleek body and hot, hungry mouth and have to excuse himself to his office, when only a hasty jerk off could make him presentable again.

"He took to you, straight off," Frank agrees, ruffling Eddy's sticky fur. "But I can't have him jumping all over you, at least not when he's such a mess."

Seth gives Eddy a critical look as the faithful pet obediently climbs back into the tub, the little rubber tail, seated deep inside, wagging. " He doesn't look too bad."

Frank shakes his head. "But he is. See, this morning, Claire and I has just finished making love..."

"Mrs. Underwood is here?" Seth gasps, any further questions cut short by a quick slap and a, "It's rude to interrupt."

"Yes, Sir, " Seth gulps. "I apologize, Sir."

"Now as I was saying, we'd just finished when I decided to get up to get a glass of water from the bathroom. I was only gone a minute but when I came back, Eddy was humping Claire to beat the band."

"Wow," says Seth, staring at the way Eddy's dick brushes against the tub's water. "That must have been something. Mrs. Underwood, was she okay with it? You didn't stop him?"

Frank pats Eddy's flank, frowning. "You poor thing, the water's gone cold. No wonder why you're shivering."

He hands Seth a bucket as he kneels at the side of the tub. "Please fill this up with hot water. But not too hot."

The bucket fills in no time, the water steaming in the cool air of the kitchen. Seth tests a few drops on the tender skin on his wrist like he's seen his obscenely fertile cousin do a million times before popping a bottle of formula into a baby's mouth. It's hot but not burning. Burning, heh, like the way his dick feels like it's about to set his Saturday chinos on fire.

"Here."

Frank tests it himself before taking a plastic tumbler full of the fresh water, pouring it along Eddy's spine. "That's a good boy. Now, where was I? Oh, yes - Claire. Was she okay with it? You'd better believe it! I thought I'd gotten her off good but with Eddy slamming balls-deep inside her, she must have come another three times."

He pours water over Eddy's sleek, glossy, come-stiff hair. "Anyway, once a dog's knotted, all you can do is wait 'til he's done."

Seth's head spins. It's one thing for a loyal, hard working staff member to earn the privilege of the Vice President's sexual favors but to plow the cool, regal Mrs. Underwood? He looks at Eddy with new respect and wonders if he'll ever have the honor of fucking her. Not likely. Not even Doug, probably, because no one holds the candle to the loyal, handsome, soft spoken agent, a man who is willing to die to protect the couple.

"So, you're not mad?"

"No, no. You see, having a pet like Eddy has been extraordinarily rewarding. He gets a happy loving home and Claire and I have the luxury of his company."

Frank wets a sponge and adds soap, squeezing until there's bubbles before rubbing circles along the dog's shoulders and ribs. "It's a win-win for all of us."

"It's like the old saying: If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog," offers Seth, starting to scrub along Eddy's belly and at the soft fluff of silky black hair beneath his arms.

Frank nods. "Exactly. But that's not to say that Eddy wasn't punished."

"Punished?"

"Well, we can't let him think that he rules the roost."

Privately, Seth thinks that this is already too late; Eddy seems as spoiled as any pampered pooch. In fact, he's sure that Eddy has a plush dog bed, probably embroidered with his name, not that he isn't sleeping in the Underwood's bed, instead.

"So?"

Frank looks embarrassed. "Claire thought that Eddy would learn his lesson if she punished him by...sitting on his face."

Seth makes a strangling sound, his hand dropping without conscious thought to give his swollen groin a squeeze. It doesn't help.

"You see, I'd come inside of her just before and by the time Eddy was done, she was a hot, dripping mess. Together, we got Eddy to scoot down a little bit to give her room. Claire grabbed hold of the headboard and lowered herself down. She didn't want to smother him, after all."

They pause, scrubbing in silence for a minute while contemplating this. Frank scrubs Eddy's head, working suds through through his short locks, rinsing him clean while humming a folk tune, 'Shenandoah', Seth thinks. It's lovely.

"So, Eddy here got hit with the jizz, big time. And I don't think he'll think twice before humping my wife. And look at him."

Frank chuckles, reaching down to rub the sponge along Eddy's thick, red dick. "He's as hard as a rock again."

Moving his sponge, Seth soaps the dog's balls, which are impressing in size and weight and all around cuteness, not that the little rubber tail poking from Meechum's asshole isn't cuter. Frank sees where he's looking and grasps the tail, pulling at it slowly. The plug that's parked inside Eddy is big, really big, with large ridges that stretch his asshole as Frank removes it. Frank's expression is thoughtful as he guides Seth's hand there.

"Wash that, would you?"

Seth is gentle, at least at first, because after carefully rubbing the abused red circle, Eddy groans and barks impatiently, looking back at both men with big, brown eyes, eyes that look hungry.

"You want to ride him?" asks Frank.

"Not you, Sir?" "Nah. I got my nut twice this morning and twice last night. There's a trade off as you get older - you can last longer but it drains the fuel tank. Besides, Eddy likes you. Claire and I could tell that you treated him real well when you came to give him his lunch."

Seth unzips his flies, wincing as his poor trapped dick escapes the confines of his pants.

Frank whistles. "I can see why Eddy was pleased. Hold on a second."

The Vice President reaches into a small box near the closest leg of the kitchen table, pulling out a bottle of lube. Seth drags his polo shirt over his head, draping it across a chair. He considers for a moment and stands, shucking his boat shoes and chinos, then his socks.

"Aren't you a pretty thing," chortles Frank, reaching over to apply the slick himself, first anointing Eddy's hole and then Seth's head and shaft. "Have at it."

Placing a soothing hand atop Eddy's hip, Seth lines himself up; Eddy, still in the tub isn't going anywhere. Frank moves to the head of the tub and slips two fingers into the dog's mouth.

"Suck," he tells his beloved pet, watching as Seth pushes in. It's incredible. Eddy is so smooth and willing, relaxing to allow the full length of Seth's dick before deliberately squeezing down for maximum friction as he noisily sucks and slobbers over the politician's fingers. And even better is the way Frank looks at him. Seth has never felt more pleasing or competent to the Vice President. It spurs him on, wanting not only to please Eddy but to put on a good show for the man to whom he's sworn his allegiance, however fragile that may be. Seth has never felt more wanted or... He stops in mid-thrust. He's never felt more loved.

He reaches down and grab's Eddy's dick and begins stroking it in time with his thrusts. It's awkward, yes, and there's water splashing everywhere but no one seems to mind. Eddy comes first, clouding the water with his thick, milky come. Some stick's to Seth's hand, which he lifts to his mouth for a taste. It's salty and musky and perfect and along with Frank's soft, encouraging voice, it's enough to send Seth over the edge.

"Good boys," the Vice President tells them, helping Eddy from the tub after Seth slides out. Frank tosses Seth a towel and they start drying the sweet old doggy. "Good boy."

Seth tries to help clean up but when he tries to lift his end of he wash tub up so it can drain into the sink, his knees tremble, nearly buckling.

"I can do this on my own, " says Frank, handing Seth a fresh towel, one warm from the nearby dryer. He pauses for a moment then rummage through the box of dog supplies, returning with a soft boars hair brush. "Make sure you dry behind Eddy's ears."

Frank turns, opening the fridge, retrieving three beers. He hands one to Seth and pours the second into Eddy's empty water dish. "Let him drink first. He slobbers."

Pulling deeply from his own beer bottle first, Frank begins draining the tub, bucket by bucket until it's nearly dry, tossing the wet towels and Eddy's 'tail' into the washtub, which he lifts with ease, placing it on top the dryer. Seth drinks his beer then begins brushing Eddy, but not before wiping his muzzle and chest clean of beer. It's nice, really nice, sitting on the floor with a dog leaning against his lap. Seth brushes long strokes along his back and belly, down his thickly muscled legs, careful not to brush against the grain of Eddy's fine, dark leg hair. He listens to Eddy's deep, relaxed breathing and the Vice President's sweet baritone and wonders how he got so lucky. Seth isn't stupid. He understands how rare this is, this brief respite from the chaos at work. While he hopes that there will be more scenes like this - small, perfect moments of friendship combined with post-coital bliss, he knows that Heather Dunbar's upcoming investigation might wreck the chances for additional invitations to play.

"Seth?" He must have zoned out for a minute. Hell, Eddy is snoring blissfully, two thirds in Seth's lap. "Yes, Sir?"

Frank stands at the kitchen island, surrounded by plates and condiments, deli bags and a loaf of bread. "I asked if you want a sandwich. I have turkey and swiss. Or I can make you a PBJ? "

"Turkey and swiss is perfect.," he replies, suddenly realizing how empty his stomach feels. He gently pushes Eddy off of him, standing up with a yawn and stretch. "What can I do to help? "

"Grab the bag of chips on top the fridge. There, behind the box of cereal" Frank lowers his voice comspiratorially. "It's my secret stash. Don't tell Claire."

"I heard that!"

Seth jumps, heart pounding, nearly spilling a bag's worth of chips on the floor. Claire walks in, looking sweet and sleepy, pausing to tickle behind Eddy's ears before wrapping her arms around her husband. All she's wearing is an oversized strappy undershirt that's khaki-colored and decorated with the Sentinel's crest, a pair of modest, white cotton panties and a pair of glasses, with thick black frames, like an accountant in the 1950s might have worn. After she kisses Frank, her attention turns.

"Hello, Seth, " she says, smiling agreeably, as if this was a perfectly ordinary Saturday afternoon. As if Seth had't just fucked their lover, who just happened to be role-playing as the world's most agreeable Labrador.

Seth drains his beer and Frank hands him another. "Thanks, Sir. Good afternoon, Mrs. Underwood., M'am."

He can't hide his returning erection but as Eddy and the Underwoods smile at him, Seth realizes that it isn't a problem.

"You look very beautiful today, M'am," he risks saying, earning a pat on his bicep and a delightedl, "Well, aren't you sweet," from her. "And you've done such a good job cleaning Eddy, she continues, crouching down to have her face licked. The undershirt, which she must have borrowed from Frank, is loose around her arms and as she moves, Seth has a glimpse of small, perfectly formed breasts, with nipples that are rose colored and stiff. He also can't tear his eyes from the flash of white panties, wondering how such a plain garment can be a hundred times more arousing than something fancy, a thong or something silky, tiny wisps of lace from wherever rich people go that's fancier than Victoria's Secret.

A plate nudges the arm Seth's leaning against the table; Frank's giving him his sandwich along with an amused look.

"Shows over, Grayson, " he says, not unkindly. "Eat up."

The four of them eat their meal. Eddy from his place at his master's knee, accepting bits of sandwich from Frank's fingers with quiet dignity.

"I guess I should be going, "Seth says finally, after lingering over his meal, reluctant to leave the warm glow he feels in their company. "I'll have your briefing for Monday's press conference first ting."

Frank walks him to the door and Seth has never felt so lonely.

*

Things go kind of crazy at work after that but somehow Frank manages to come out on top despite Dunbar and the former - President and Raymond Tusk. Seth is too busy to feel his loneliness, at least at first. He's even unrolling a sleeping bag on his office floor more nights than not but what he makes up in productivity is lost in the ache of his back. He can push his feelings aside as he works tirelessly for Underwood, even as he squirrels away nuggets of information that might be vital for his own quest for power. For weeks, he only sees Meechum in passing, enough time to share a private smile of knowing. It's only later that Seth takes a good, long look in the mirror and recognizes Meechum's expression there. Substitute blue eyes for chocolate brown but it's the same.

"You're lonely, too," he says to himself, watching the lanky agent hurrying with the President, always a pace behind. First things first, though, Seth decides as he massages his aching lower back. He goes logs onto Amazon and looks for solutions. There's no room for a convertible couch or a heavy foam mattress. He needs something that can be bundled away during the day, away from his piles of press releases and the coat rack that's practically bent under the weight of his dry cleaning, the fresh suits he changes into each morning after a quick shower in the employee lounge's well equipped bathroom.

Seth isn't thinking about Meechum as he searches for super sized dog beds but as he checks out an outrageously expensive model, Great Dane-sized with a hypoallergenic plush cover and deluxe orthopedic foam, Seth starts making plans. But first, there's more shopping to do.

*

When Tom Yates shows up, Seth knows it's time to make his move. It's just that hard to see the look of dejection on Meechum's sweetly handsome face as he tries not to let on how much the brash interloper's presence pains him. By now, he's figured out Meechum's schedule, when he's running ragged or standing silently in the Oval Office while Frank cajole and threatens his balking Congress. Seth takes special notice of when Meechum takes his for lunch, a mandatory break designed to keep agents fresh and on their toes. He knows that he's stopped lunching with Underwood, instead wandering into the Rose Garden to eat, rain or shine.

"You busy?"

Meechum blinks, his wary, careworn expression warming at the sight of Seth. "Just brown bagging it."

"Why don't we eat together? I've got a dorm fridge in my office filled with cold Cokes," Seth suggests, careful to control the excitement in his voice; Meechum has the look of a long term stray, just as capable of bolting from an outstretched hand as to submitting to a friendly caress.

"I don't think the President would like that," Meechum answers with real reluctance. "I'm not allowed to, ah, play with others unless he or the First Lady approve."

Seth sits down on the bench, his knee casually bumping against Meechum's as he moves so enough to whisper.

"I'm not looking for a repeat, " he says earnestly, really meaning it. It isn't about sex anymore, not really. "I look at you, Ed, and I feel bad about the way you've been neglected. Why..." And here's the kicker, "Personally, I wouldn't treat a dog like the way the Underwoods are treating you, much less a friend. "

"Are we friends? " Meechum asks sadly as he crumples the brown paper sack in his hands.

"I hope so. I want to be."

Meechum smiles for the first time in ages. "Okay. Okay, let's go. "

*

They eat together on Seth's desk. Conversation is slow to start until Seth mentions the Baltimore Ravens chances for the Pennant, sparking a lively debate that keeps them busy until it's time to get back to work. The next day, Seth brings his lunch with him to the Rose Garden, packing extra servings of fudge brownies from the bakery near his apartment. They go back and forth like that, not every day because that would be impossible but close enough. Seth's in no hurry, biding his time until he's certain that if Meechum rejects his proposed plan, it won't ruin their friendship. Finally, it's time.

"Hey, Eddy? " Seth asks, watching Meechum's expression with care, watching him wince, about what Seth expects.

Meechum's face drops as he mumbles something as he's turns his face. Seth won't let him.

"Edward. Eddy, please?"

"I said I'm not Eddy anymore. Haven't been for ages."

Tears are rolling down Meechum's cheeks and his shoulders are hitching. Seth hugs him tight, not letting go until he makes the first move away.

"I kinda guessed," Seth admits, taking a soft handkerchief from his desk drawer so he can wipe his friend's face. He gives Meechum a few fingers of bourbon from a bottle hidden in the bottom drawer of his file cabinet. The President and First Lady are down in Gaffney, with Yates, leaving Meechum behind so there's nothing keeping the two of them from getting a little drunk. They share Seth's one glass, a crystal tumbler he'd nicked from the Russian Embassy months ago; if Edward minds sharing. it doesn't show.

"You could be my pet," Seth suggests. "Until the Underwoods come to their senses and realize what they are missing. Not that they deserve a stand up guy like you," he continues, his tongue loosened. "It's not the sex, though I gotta admit it was freaking amazing. I'm lonely. So damned lonely."

He fumbles with his pocket, drawing out a long silver choke collar.

"I didn't make a tag," Seth adds hurriedly. "It didn't seem my place."

"Put it on me," Edward begs, kneeling at Seth's feet. It fits perfectly.

"My good doggy," Seth croons, rubbing Eddy's ears. He grabs the bundled dog bed from beneath his desk, shaking it out onto the narrow strip of floor beside his desk that leads to the office door. Eddy flops down, mindless of his sharply pressed suit. He gives a little wiggle, burying his nose into the soft fabric until he delicately sneezes.

Seth takes off his shoes, running a socked foot along the dog's flanks as he continues poring over dozens of files all marked 'Urgent'. There's a bag that's still hidden, a package of doggy biscuits that are rated for human consumption, another online purchase. Seth's tried one. It tastes like peanut butter shortbread. He'll have to wait to give one to Eddy, for he's already sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Look what I have," President Underwood chortles, tugging on the red leather leash. The bitch attached to the leash is shy, holding back behind the man’s legs.

"Oh, she's gorgeous, Francis!" Claire bends down, softly clapping her hands and making kissing noises. "Come here, little cutie."

The bitch yips and wiggles towards the First Lady, flopping down and rolling over to expose her plump, fuzzy belly. 

"What's her name?"

Frank grins. "Her name is Seth."

"What a funny name for such a pretty girl," Claire laughs, now scratching the sweet spot at the top of Seth's chest, just above the lone pair of tight, pointed dark nipples. "But I don't think Eddy will mind."

"That's one of the reasons I got her" Frank admits, ruffling the soft, silky dark hair of Seth's head. "Eddy seems lonely sometimes. You and I have been so busy. I thought he could use a playmate. "

Claire tears her eyes from the gently moaning bitch, leaning towards her husband for a kiss. "So thoughtful."

"Plus, we've talked about what a splendid specimen Eddy is so I thought we could try to get some puppies from him."

"Is she…?"

Frank nods, spreading Seth's hind legs to expose her sopping wet hole. He slides a careful finger inside her, chuckling at the ease with which he enters and at Seth's sudden, desperate yip of excitement. 

“Look how slick," he observes, showing Claire his glistening finger. "She's ready for breeding, alright."

As if on cue a slender dog scampers around the trio, his little tail whipping back and forth, powered by his wiggling hips. He gives his new playmate a traditional bow, barking playfully near the tips of his front paws. Seth whimpers shyly, frozen in her belly up position as she is sniffed from end to end by the handsome dog, whose cock is already peeping from his sheath, red and dripping.

Seth shivers, otherwise motionless as Eddy nudges his nose against her hole, sniffing avidly before the licking starts, his flat, pink tongue insinuating her sopping, open entrance as she shifts her pelvis to give him greater entry.  
Still, there's a hesitation, a shyness in her sturdy, gently padded form and in her sweetly expressive eyes. 

"Francis, has she been bred before?"

"I don't think she has," he admits, reaching down to grasp a nipple, rolling it between his fingers. "Look. Still small and tight. She’s never given pups suck. A virgin."

Claire sighs, stroking Seth's flank. "Perhaps she needs to see how it's done. "

"A demonstration," Frank replies, brightening as Claire stands, her pencil skirt already unzipped as sliding to her ankles. 

"Come here, Eddy, " she commands, dropping to her hands and knees, still wearing her pale silk blouse and pearls.

Eddy knows a good thing when he sees it and hurries to the First Lady, burying his face against her flushed pink lips to taste her sweet juices, his cock swelling to ludicrous stiffness as Claire groans wantonly, aware of their audience of two.

Eddy knows a good thing when he sees it and hurries to the First Lady, burying his face against her flushed pink lips to taste her sweet juices, his cock swelling to ludicrous stiffness as Claire groans wantonly, aware of their audience of two.

"Here," Frank murmurs, taking Eddy cock in hand, pumping it twice before lining it up to Claire's open, his hand remaining in place as he slides into place. "Good boy," he says thickly, pulling his own fat cock free from his trousers.

Seth yips with interest, finally returning to her feet to sniff him shyly. 

"That's my girl," Frank drawls, tickling softly behind her ears as she ventures a lick against his slit, capturing a bead of salty fluid.

Her small, mouse-like squeaks of happiness are almost drowned out by Eddy's bellowing pants and Claire's throaty howls as the dog's swollen knot forces its way inside her hot, eager lips.

*

It's just a typical Saturday afternoon for Seth, working through piles of press release rough drafts and so on, the dry, fussy tasks that never seem to end. He eats a sandwich as he finishes, chewing thoughtfully as he goes over a mental itinerary for the rest of his day off. He's got dry cleaning to pick up and a trip to the grocery wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe he'd shower and put on his nice jeans, the ones that showcase his assets. Pull out his cowboy boots, too, placing a bandana in a strategic pocket to advertise his sexual availability to the patrons of his favorite local honky-tonk, which is as full of guys on the prowl for fresh dick as it is home sick Texans. 

He's mulling this over when there's a sound at his door. He scrambles respectfully to his feet to greet President Underwood, who regards Seth with a long look that's practically a leer.

"Mr. President, Sir," he says hurriedly, his stomach flip flopping in his belly. Seth's seen that look before and it excites him as much as it unnerves him. The plans that had seemed so likely are suddenly dim and unimportant.   
Underwood moves closer, describing his own ideas to wile away the evening, ideas as startling as they are intriguing. 

"It's not so different from what you did back at the townhouse." Frank glances pointedly at the Great Dane sized dog bed stuffed between two files cabinets while giving the extra-large Kong chew toy Seth uses as a paperweight a slow spin. "It's may even be something that you and Edward have tried already. 

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir, " drops from Seth's mouth, immediately regretting it. It was stupid to think that Frank wouldn't know, though Seth's certain that Edward wouldn't volunteer the information. The man's eyes are everywhere and he doesn't miss a thing. 

Frank's requests are short and to the point. And it is a request, not an order, which Seth takes as both a sign of respect as well as a sign of the President’s unwillingness to take what isn't freely given. 

"Yes, Sir. I'd like that fine," Seth agrees, his Texas drawl sounding, unbidden. He unbuckling his belt and Frank smiles, tapping his ring twice against the door frame before stepping inside, a bottle of lube already in his other hand.

*

Later, in the privacy of the Residence, Seth strips bare, Frank carefully folding each piece neatly, forming a tidy pile of clothing he stacks on a chair, stowing Seth's shoes underneath. 

"Kneel," Frank orders and Seth's body moves with a mind of its own, his stiffening dick bobbing as he slides to his knees with perfect obedience. It feels good, like he's drunk on it, his cares and worries melting away under Frank's firm hand. Not even Doug has taken him there, as hard as the Chief of Staff has tried, Underwood achieving perfect control with just a touch and a few softly spoken words.

"A present for you," Frank continues, retrieving something red from his pocket, a collar. Frank holds it out and Seth sniffs the sweet scent of fine leather, allowing his tongue to timidly lick Frank's hand.

"Well aren't you a sweetie," Frank coos, running a hand along Seth’s spine and back again, encouraging him to rest on all fours, now. "And such a pretty little girl-dog."

The collar has a tag, a silver heart with Seth's name etched in filigree.  
The collar is quickly clasped and Seth moans with pleasure. She's their little bitch now and she loves it.

*

She feels so free, so completely unabashed by her dripping rear that is dark pink and loose from being thoroughly worked. Her balls crawl up as her sack tightens, her cock growing even harder as Claire, who is often more distant than friendly, greets her with obvious delight. 

Eddy is also welcoming, exuberantly prancing around Seth, slobbering happily as she remains in the position of supplication, her belly and dick exposed to their discerning eyes. She's nervous again, too stimulated maybe.

Her body grows boneless. He scarcely hears the words exchanged so high above his head, jumping as his nipple is tweaked by the Alpha human, his back passage plummeted by a stubby, gentle finger.

Before she can manage a questioning bark, Claire is stripping, presenting herself to Eddy. 

The sleek male’s unsheathed dick slaps against her thighs as Eddy scrambles for purchase as he humps her. The President laughs, stroking Eddy twice before guiding the dog into his waiting wife. 

"Look at them," Frank whispers into Seth's ears. "Look at how...satisfying it can be to surrender." He takes his dick from his pants and begins to rub it against her as they watch Claire being fucked so well, her first orgasm ripping through the former - ambassador as Eddy nips and licks her shoulders, the nape of her neck.

Seth freezes as Frank slides his crown inside of her, adjusting to the heat and weight of it as she's stretched wide around him. Claire distracts her, growling though another orgasm and clutching at Seth's front paws, for they are parallel to each other now. Her touch relaxes her, allowing Frank to enter her fully, pull almost entirely out and back in again.

The fucking grows serious now, man and dog finding a rhythm they can share as they thrust together in unison. 

Seth's prostate is stroked by Frank, any discomfort disappearing as the pleasure starts to build. She ruts back now, meeting his cock as it slams inside, howling with pleasure has he grunts and begins spurting his hot seed inside of her. It's enough to set Seth off, Eddy and Claire, too. As Seth puddles wet and white upon the rug beneath her, Eddy comes inside of Claire, who comes again, a final strong orgasm roaring through her as she wrings Eddy dry. 

It's over too fast but Seth has nowhere she needs to be other than resting against them, her collar a comforting weight against her throat.


End file.
